Thursday, 15 September 2016

[BLOG] Let me use Huberic of Haghill

Accidental genius or random content mill? Opinions
vary about Judges Guild, but there is a truth to both descriptions. Here was a
pioneer in its field with enormous output, sometimes with much better contents
than the cover, and sometimes... yeah, sometimes the cover, with gloriously
garish 70s commercial art, was the best part of the deal. Beyond all the hit or
miss stuff, the real fascination with JG’s game materials comes from two main
creators; Paul Jaquays with his developed swords&sorcery sensibilities, and
Bob Bledsaw’s visionary work in establishing the concept of the game
supplement, and running with the idea to blaze a trail from giant city states
to enormous hex-mapped worlds, sprawling haunted houses and a few more odd bits
and pieces.

Installment-era production values

This is not as straightforward as it seems. Much
like the idea of role-playing games seems obvious to anyone after two or three
minutes of explanation, adventure modules and setting materials also make
perfect sense in hindsight. But when it comes to establishing the formula,
going in with no precedent, guessing what gaming groups actually want in terms of support material, then
creating products to those specifications and distilling game ideas into
structured information: that takes some thinking (it may or may not be relevant
that Bob Bledsaw came from an engineering design background).

Early Judges Guild, in the period when it was a
subscription service for monthly instalments of semi-random game content, shows
well the development of the game supplement idea. The instalments, which were
later assembled into larger-scale products, had a slapdash approach to cranking
out cool stuff, consisting of:

high value-added maps with a lot of complexity and
(relatively) very good production values;

optional rules filling in D&D’s gaps at a time
when there was more of those than an actual fully realised game, clarifying and
expanding on things like wishes, geas and quest spells, negotiation, using
ability scores to attempt extraordinary deeds (in a much superior ways than
TSR’s solution), and so on;

game procedures which extended the scope of
tabletop simulation to new dimensions (such as mining for precious minerals,
trade, running a small barony, being sued at a court of law, buying and selling
slaves, picking up hot women in a sinful city state, and so on);

and attempts at prewritten adventures.

(Tellingly, there are very few, if any new monsters
and magic items, and no supplements dedicated to this purpose: those needs were
already being met by TSR’s D&D supplements.)

It is interesting that with the modular, open game
framework of early D&D, Judges Guild’s installments approach the concept of
presenting a readymade adventure from
so many different angles, and essentially come up with multiple solutions to
the same dilemma in the scope of only a few instalments:

Dungeon adventures presented in the standard “map
and key” format. This method was inherited from TSR, with a few differences:
none of these dungeons were fully described until Tegel Manor (TheSunstone Caverns discusses the dungeon
level’s powerful monsters and factions), but they incorporated a lot more
information into the maps themselves than TSR – and in fact later JG – ever would.

City adventures based on a map and key foundation,
but supplemented with a system of bolted-on charts and guidelines which turn
exploring the city into a very chaotic experience (City State of the Invincible Overlord, Modron).

Wilderness adventures presented in the form of hex
crawls and supplemented with opportunities for strategic play. This is something
that also came from TSR and its wargaming influences, but it was only really
developed by JG, turning the wilderness expedition into a set of very easily
understandable procedures (Wilderlands
of High Fantasy).

Attempts at procedurally generated adventures (Frontier Forts of Kelnore and the later
Village/Castle/Island/Temple Book series).

And last but not least, location-based setting modules.

It is this last group – site-based sandbox
components – that gets the least amount of attention in old school circles, and
which I am looking at now. All this because I want to use Huberic of Haghill.

Haghill and environs

In the shadow of the more massive JG products, the City State, the Wilderlands and Tegel Manor,
there are these small, scattered bits that are intended to be fit into a game,
but are neither fully adventures, nor fully world background. Thunderhold and Huberic of Haghill don’t work cleanly as histories or cultural
background (as Tolkien’s appendices or EPT’s world information do), but neither
do they have a precise “algorithm” to translate them into game procedures. They
don’t have a clear or even strongly implied purpose: you are on your own, and you
have to figure out how to get gameplay out of them – which is precisely how
sandbox games work.

Both of these modules have a brief background
outlining a bit of history and notes on who rules the place, a roster of local
NPCs, one-line legends and rumours, a roster of shops and taverns, and a hex
map (Thunderhold also has the Sunstone Caverns, but that is arguably a
different module). In Huberic’s case, it all takes up one very compact page,
and it is a thing of beauty.

The man, the myth, the legend

Half this module’s real charm comes from Huberic of
Haghill himself, a larger-than-life character who sets the tone for his little
corner of the world. Huberic is the kind of guy adventurers dream of becoming
after retirement: a fat, hedonistic asshole who enjoys good food and crude
jokes and lives on top of his own dungeon. We learn that he has moved into The
Tower of Torpid Terror despite the local legends; that he essentially has prudently
sealed off the entrances; that “he is especially
fond of banquets and uses every opportunity to increase his grisly girth”.
He gives gold rings to his favourites and frightens animals and peasants with
his 20’ whip. Huberic of Haghill is the kind of person I want to be when I grow
up.

The NPCs in Haghill are as random and fantastic as
anything made by Judges Guild; including Slaughter Serkart, a 4th
level Fighter with a crested helm, a huge moustache and a pair of magic boots;
Cobbler Codfall, who likes to badmouth Huberic and is friends with a shedu; and
Boomer Bronk, the village’s priest... who is a follower of Yezud the Lawful
Evil spider god, and has 6 pet spiders. What is Yezud doing in a podunk village
out there in the hills? It is all so delightfully oddball that it is hard not
to say “Yes, in fact, he is there
because...” Just to get you going, there are seven legends to follow, such
as “a vampire tree with golden apples”
and “a sea-shore inhabited by murderous
moles”. And of course, we get another page with a map of Haghill’s
environs, which tantalizingly shows us three cave mouths that were never even mentioned
in the text, and lead to the Singing Caverns, whatever they are.

Huberic of
Haghill shows both the mini-module concept’s fascination
and its limitations. It is interesting due to the things it reveals, but it
becomes a mystery due to the things it doesn’t. It remains the GM’ (sorry,
Judge’s) task to make sense of Haghill, and develop its leads into genuine
connections. And it leaves you hanging with The Tower of Torpid Terror, whose
dungeons are never mapped, let alone described, not even in manner of the
Sunstone Caverns. The potential main attraction of Huberic of Haghill is mentioned in an off-hand way, then promptly ignored.
Let me put it this way: you would never, ever get away with that kind of thing
today. And yet, it is perhaps this absence at the heart of Huberic that makes
the imagination tick. What lies below
the tower? Installment K doesn’t
tell, and neither do followup JG products. In fact, the strangeness of the
early, Installment-era Judges Guild gradually gave way to more polished supplements
as gaming became more polished and less scattershot (I was surprised to learn there
are almost three years between Installment
I and Installment Y). The puzzle
will always remain incomplete, and perhaps that is the way it was always meant
to be.

But Huberic
of Haghill shall rise again, because after much neglect, it has found a place
in my heart, and it will definitely find a place in my upcoming campaign about
adventurous lowlifes and conniving fat bastards ruling hilariously small
fiefdoms as petty autocrats. Torpid Terror beware – here we come!

11 comments:

Not related to your central point, but relevant to the Sunstone Caverns vs. TSR keyed approach, the following comes from Journal K, which accompanied Huberic of Hagill (and the rest of the of Booklet K): “… we have noted your desires for more dungeon level description. For those who like the openness of ‘Sunstone Caverns’ for your own inputs…we can only say that squeaking hinges get oiled first. Our mail has run 2x1 for more descriptions although we have received many compliments on the open format.”

Sunstone Caverns was a hit and miss for me. It took an awful lot of work to fill all those rooms with interesting encounters. I ran it for two parties. The first one had a good time playing the factions against each other and exploring all the weird things down there. The other party barely tipped its toe: after a few quests they left the place. I would say the first party explored around 60-70%, the other less than 20% of the dungeon.

A few months ago the above mentioned second party visited Haghill on its way to the City State. They visited the Tower of Torpid Terror, which was an abandoned missile silo from ancient times. The Torpid Terror itself was a huge black pudding born of radiation and rocket fuel. The adventurers tinkered with leaking reactors, fought slimes and slime zombies, activated and deactivated an angry battle droid, and looted some ancient technology.

The ToTT isn't the only dungeon of Haghill! The Singing Caverns sound like an intriguing place too.

I vaguely recall an article in Fight On in which the author expanded on the Haghill area, and I look forward to your take on it. Off topic, I am running my group through Strabonus, and they encountered the room with the magnets last night. Very clever design, they really enjoyed the challenges that room presented!

Gary, that expansion of the Haghill area was my work, in Fight On! #3, the issue dedicated to Bob Bledsaw. Though official for the Wilderlands of High Adventure, it was not official for the Wilderlands of High Fantasy.

James: Thanks for the heads up, I have just re-read it and enjoyed the read.Melan: Strabonus is unfolding wonderfully. The magnet fight had the two main fighters spending the entire combat assisting each other to escape the magnets pull, the bard hung in the periphery using support spells and getting ready to bail, while the two clerics teamed up on grappling Xatolun, and repeatedly dropping him in the nearby 60 foot pit. The fight used up most of their resources (5 pc's from level 4-6, DnD 5e).Overall the dungeon has proven challenging. One permanent PC death to the mummies, and two other deaths (poison shield, poison cloak) which has used up the party supply of diamonds for revivify. We continue tomorrow, possibly to the conclusion

Fascinating; out of all the stuff that could have been detailed from the Wilderlands, Bob chose to pay attention to this fat bastard and his petty realm. It does illustrate the type of fantasy he was going for.